


Glitter and Lace

by CharlieMistry



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Lapdance, M/M, Oral Sex, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Thiefshipping, cross dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:09:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlieMistry/pseuds/CharlieMistry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bakura decides to go to a strip club and finds a "girl" he'd rather like to take home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glitter and Lace

Bakura didn't go out much, if he could avoid it. But as an ancient demon possessing a teenage boy's body, he had needs and doing things to his own vessel grew a little monotonous. So, feeling horny as hell and desperate to even just _see_ , let alone touch, a naked body, he went to a strip club. The seediest he could find in the slight hope that he may be able to sleep with one of the dancers.

Sitting alone in the club "Glitter", he nursed a glass of cola while glancing around at the beautiful girls. The way they writhed and wrapped themselves around things, like the poles on the stage... He thought with a smirk that he wouldn't mind something pretty wrapping themselves around _his_ pole. It was then that one particular dancer caught his eye. He couldn't quite believe it. Shining blonde hair, bright violet eyes and a tanned lithe body in a lilac crop-top and a flouncy ballerina skirt. Long legs crowned with golden high heels... The beautiful dancer owned the stage. Bakura sniggered knowingly before approaching a barman.  
"I want _that_ one," he sneered, pointing. He placed a wad of notes on the counter.  
" _That_ one?" the man replied, looking nervous as he dried a glass with a dish cloth. "She doesn't do private dances."  
"I know _her_ ," he smiled.  
"Okay then... I'll go check. Wait in private room one, it's just over there..." he sighed, pocketing the notes.

Bakura took a seat in the private room and sneered smugly to himself. The room was dimly lit.  
"The boss doesn't often let me do private dances," a husky voice announced, after closing the door behind them. "I hope you don't mind surprises!"  
"Oh, I've already had my surprise. How about you... Marik?" he smirked.  
The dancer froze. "The spirit of the ring?" he gasped, trying to cover himself slightly. "What are you doing here?"  
"I think the more pertinent question would be, what are _you_ doing here?" he sneered, unable to hide his amusement. "Dressed as a girl no less, though, I don't know why I'm surprised..."  
"Bakura, please don't tell anyone!" he begged, clutching at Bakura's shirt collar.  
"Just do your job, Ishtar, and I suppose I won't have to," he smiled, putting his hands behind his back.  
"What do you...?"  
"Dance. Come on, what do you get paid for?"  
Biting his lip, Marik thought for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and turned around, twisting his body down to sweep his arse past Bakura's knees. He twirled back up and turned back round, spreading his thighs and placing his feet either side of the seated man. Eyes still closed, he swept his hands through his hair and slowly rocked his hips.

"Open your damn eyes," Bakura ordered.  
Biting his lip again, Marik opened his eyes.  
"I didn't know you were..." he mumbled, almost straddling him but not quite... Keeping the professional distance.  
"Gay? I just enjoy pretty things," he sneered, "I've always admired your... physique, so, I'd say I've been rather lucky here today."  
Marik continued dancing and tried his hardest to keep eye contact with him. Bakura's eyes were so... He couldn't tell what they were. He felt as though they could see through him. It made him nervous.  
"And I already know about you," the pale-haired man sneered.  
"What are you talking about now?" he growled, putting his hands on his hips.  
"I never had any question over your sexuality," he sniggered.  
"Hell, that's not fair!" he barked, raising and clenching his fists.  
"Now now, Marik, remember who's the paying customer here?" he laughed, pulling some notes from his pocket and snapping them into the waistband of Marik's skirt.  
The stinging slap of elastic made him gasp. After regaining his composure, he threw the notes back at him.  
"I'm a stripper, not a damn whore," he growled. And with that, he started dancing again, with a furious enthusiasm.

He made strong fluid movements, making sure to brush as close to Bakura's body as he could without actually touching him. The seated man started tensing. He knew why he'd come here but he was still surprised by how aroused he was getting.  
Then Marik actually started stripping.  
He started by removing the crop top, slowly pulling it over his head. Bakura's hand automatically reached out to touch him but was stopped by a golden stiletto.  
"Remember the no touching rule!" he sneered.  
The paler man growled and slowly put his hands back to his sides.

Bakura hadn't really taken any notice of the fact that there was music playing but he suddenly became aware when the song changed to something he regretted to know. "I'm in Love with a Stripper" blared from the speakers.  
With his foot still perched in between Bakura's thighs, Marik sneered.  
"Wipe that look off your face!" the white-haired man snapped. "I admit that I'm attracted to you but..."  
"And I you," he purred, getting close, almost touching nose-to-nose.  
" _But_... Don't get any stupid ideas about happy-ever-afters."  
"You do remember what I do, right?" he sniggered, tugging deviously at the hem of his skirt.   
"Well, I was assuming..." he started. Marik twirled and practically sat on Bakura's lap. Their groins brushed against each other. Bakura paused and tried, in vain, not to appear flustered. "Assuming that you held some frivolous 'Pretty Woman' fantasies."  
"What?" he asked, repeating the last move... very slowly.

"Fuck you, Marik," Bakura growled, gripping tightly to the chair and going red in the face.  
Marik simply sniggered again and held at his skirt.  
"You may as well finish, if I'm paying for this damn dance..."  
The blonde pulled down the skirt and stepped out of it. Underneath, he wore a tight pink lycra g-string... with an obvious hard-on.  
"How have you hidden that from customers for however long?" Bakura smirked.  
"Admittedly..." he gave a soft laugh. He was becoming as embarrassed as Bakura. "None of my customers have ever turned me on... but you..."  
"I'm flattered!" he cackled, "You know, I'd quite like to relieve you of that..."  
"Relieve me of...?" he mumbled, momentarily baffled. He saw Bakura look at his aching arousal and lick his lips. " _That_?!"  
He nodded and licked his lips again.  
Marik nervously took hold of Bakura's shirt collar. "Not here."  
"Why not?" the eager customer sneered.  
"At the very least, I'd get fired for professional misconduct..."  
"And?"  
"At the worst, I could be arrested for prostitution."  
"My, my, you must be serious!"  
"I am!" he squeaked, tugging at the shirt.  
"Well... Suppose that... Suppose a _friend_ offered to drive you home. That wouldn't be a problem now, would it?"  
"Well, no..."  
"And it's none of their business what we do once you leave the building. So. Get in my car so I can take you home and fuck you senseless."  
Marik was understandably speechless.  
"Well?" Bakura prompted, a lot less uncomfortable than before.  
"I'll get my coat," he muttered, hurriedly putting his few items of clothing back on.  
"I thought you would," he sneered, standing up, also noticeably aroused.  
"Let's go," he said quietly. He led Bakura out of the room and stood nervously by the bar.

"What's up, Princess?" the barman asked.  
"I don't feel very well," Marik mumbled, grabbing his coat from a hook on the wall. "My friend is taking me home."  
The barman looked at Bakura suspiciously. "Didn't you just request... well, request _Princess_ for a dance?"  
"No," he shrugged. "We went shopping earlier and I thought _she_ looked a little... unwell. I came to make sure _she_ was all right."  
"The boss won't be happy," the barman frowned, turning back to Marik.  
"Is she ever?" he sniggered before show-coughing.  
"Well, okay, whatever. I'll tell her you got a taxi or something."

After walking outside with slow restraint, Bakura pulled Marik into an alleyway and pushed him up against a wall. He crushed their lips together and held tightly onto Marik's hips. Marik was frozen for a moment but after the initial shock dissipated, he held onto one of Bakura's arms with one hand and swept the other through his hair.  
"I am going to fuck you so hard."  
"Not here!" he gasped.  
"Hmmmmmmm..." Bakura snarled, nibbling at Marik's neck.  
"I mean it, Bakura!" he barked, pushing him away. "I didn't play hookey to be molested in some filthy alleyway!"  
"Well then, what do you suggest, _Princess_?" he laughed.  
"How far's your place?"  
"Fine then..." he sighed, "I'll take you to my car in a moment..." He knelt down in front of Marik.  
"What are you doing?" he choked.  
"What do you think?" he sniggered, walking his fingers up the other man's thigh and pulling his underwear down slightly. Before Marik could complain any more, he was interrupted by warm hands wrapping round his throbbing member followed by a swift tongue licking the head.  
"Oh!" he squeaked. "Oh god!"  
Bakura eased his mouth over his length, causing Marik's legs to buckle as he gasped deeply. The moist warmth of his mouth, as well as all the skilful tongue lapping and light teeth-scraping, was driving the poor tanned stripper to some kind of distracted euphoria.

Within moments, Marik was pounding the wall behind him with his fists, flailing wildly and squealing uncontrollably before that one moment of sweet release.  
Bakura released his hips from his hands and member from his mouth then spat on the ground.  
"Shall we go back to mine then?" he asked casually, covering the wilting member up with the frills of the blonde's skirt.  
Marik was gasping for breath and, just-barely, supporting himself with his palms on the wall.  
"Come on then," he sneered, walking away with a proud strut.  
The blonde nodded deliriously and pulled up his underwear then slowly padded after him to his car.

"This is a nice car," Marik commented nervously as he sat down.  
Bakura simply grunted as he started up the engine.  
"Where is your place?" the anxious teen asked.  
"Marik, could you do something for me?"  
"Uh yeah, sure. What is it?" he asked, a little surprised.  
"You see the gear stick there?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Put your hand on it a moment."  
Marik followed the order, though he didn't quite understand it.  
"Good, now if you could move it this way," Bakura continued, indicating towards himself.  
Again, he did as he was told.  
"Now, down a little."  
By this point, Marik was starting to get what Bakura wanted.  
"Do you want me to...?" he mumbled embarrassedly.  
"Just hand will do for now," he replied casually, as if he weren't currently requesting a hand job.

Marik tried his best to open the zipper on Bakura's jeans without getting in the way of his driving. He managed it then slipped his hand past and onto his hardened cock. Bakura let out a small sigh of approval. He glanced down at Marik quickly. The blonde was staring intently at the _job in hand_. He started with a delicate tracing with his fingers then began rubbing him with his palm. An appreciative grunt. He wrapped his hand around and started rubbing harder and faster.  
"Slow _down_ ," Bakura growled. "I'm trying to bloody drive!"  
"You told me to..."  
"Yes, Marik but... _bloody hell_!!! What did I _just_ say?!" he barked with arousal and frustration.  
"Hmmmmm..." Marik purred, keeping the same pace while attempting to sneak a finger around, tracing his balls.  
"Marik, if you don't stop that _right now_ , I swear, I am going to stop the car and fuck you in the middle _of the road_!!!"  
He ceased and put both of his hands behind his head. Bakura grunted.

The rest of the journey was a struggle. Bakura tried to keep his eyes on the road while Marik tried to keep his hands to himself.  
After a rather shoddy job of parking, Bakura led Marik inside of his house. He slammed the door then pushed him up against it, diving in to devour his neck with his tongue and teeth. Marik squirmed and moaned.  
"Hmmmmm... Bakura," he mumbled, "Could I... Well... Could I use the bathroom?"  
"Heh..." he sniggered, nipping at his skin and raising his knee in between Marik's legs. "No. I don't mind cleaning up later if it means more fun now."  
"I mind!" he barked, trying to squirm away. "I'm not into that kind of thing!"  
"Fine," he sighed, backing away and pointing across the hall. "That door just there."   
Marik dashed past him and into the bathroom. Bakura sighed and hovered by the door. He listened intently to Marik's actions in the next room and sniggered to himself. His sighs of relief sounded somewhat orgasmic.

When Marik left the bathroom, drying his hands on his coat, Bakura grabbed hold of him and started kissing at his neck again.  
"Ungh..." he moaned as Bakura tore off his coat. "Could I... have a drink?"  
Bakura slammed him against a wall. "You don't ask for much, do you?!" he hissed.  
"Please, Kura? I get really thirsty from work..."  
"Grrrr... Fine, provided you _never_ call me 'Kura' ever again," he growled, leading him into the kitchen.  
"Deal," he nodded, following closely.

In the cramped kitchen, Bakura started rifling irritably through the fridge-freezer. Marik leant back on a fastidiously clean counter.  
"Wine?"  
"Is it red, white or rose?" the blonde asked.  
"Does it really matter at this point?" he hissed. "It's red, anyway."  
"No rose?"  
"Marik, grab a glass from that overhead cupboard behind you and drink whatever I damn give you!"  
Marik sighed and slowly followed orders. As the fussy teen turned away from him, Bakura was hit by a sudden flash of inspiration. One involving butter. 

Before the Egyptian boy had even found a suitable glass, he was stopped in his tracks by something slippery pulling his flimsy undergarment down and shallowly push into him. He gasped loudly.  
"Did no one ever teach you that you should never turn your back to a thief?" Bakura purred into his ear, as he rubbed his finger in and around his entrance.  
"Ah, Kura!" he squeaked.  
"What did I say earlier?" he growled, pulling his finger out and thrusting back in with two.  
"Hngggh!"  
"I thought you'd say that," he smirked, pulling out once again.  
Marik gasped and braced his palms against the counter. He stared at the wall in front of him, trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever Bakura might attempt next.  
Despite this, he still let out a surprised shriek when Bakura forced a full entry, holding tightly onto one of his hip bones.  
"Nggh... you're tight!" Bakura hissed, digging his fingernails into Marik's side as he thrust into his body.  
Marik let out another small squeal as he was pushed against the counter, losing his grip on it and grabbing hold of the kitchen cabinet above him instead. He was in agony. Such delicious agony. The white haired man had snuck his spare hand around his body, wrapping around and stroking his increasing arousal.  
"Ungh, Kura!!!"  
The hand that had been clutched to his hip shot up and tugged at his hair.  
"Ahhhhh!!!"  
"What... Did... I... _say_?!?!"  
"Kura!!!" he shouted purposefully.  
Bakura gave another sharp tug in time with another hard thrust. Before he could even establish a proper rhythm, Marik came loudly and messily.

When he became aware of the warm stickiness on his hand, Bakura withdrew, sniggering. He made a show of licking it off.  
"That was _quick_!"  
"Shut... shut up..." Marik panted, trying to straighten himself up.  
"I was merely pointing out-"  
"Well, _don't_..." he barked, "Could I have that wine now?"  
"I suppose I can't see a valid reason why not," he sighed, zipping his jeans back up. "Need to get you willing again before we go again."  
Marik simply growled and grabbed a glass from the cupboard, making sure not to take his eyes from the thief.  
"Here," Bakura sniggered, picking up the bottle of wine and pouring some into the glass.  
"Thanks... Prick," he mumbled, sipping his wine. "Though, I'm starting to wonder why I thought this was a good idea."  
"Are you trying to tell me that multiple orgasms aren't a good idea?"  
"I... _No_!" he screeched, getting frustrated in numerous ways. "I somehow forgot what a bastard you were!"  
"Perhaps, but you're attracted to me, so what does that matter?"  
Marik growled, put his glass on the counter then stormed out into the hallway.  
"Excuse me!" Bakura barked, following. "You had better not be changing your mind..."  
"No," he mumbled, returning to the kitchen and his wine. "I had to get some pills from my coat pocket."  
"Stripping, casual sex and now _drugs_? Well, that's quite a rock and roll lifestyle you lead there!"  
"Shut up, Spirit..." he growled, before taking the pills with his wine. "They're not... They're to keep _him_ away."  
" _Him_?" he smirked, refusing to take him seriously.  
"Yes... _Him_... You know... _Dark_ Marik..."  
"Oh, you mean I could've been spending the night with your sinisterly delicious alter-ego? I can imagine him to be a bit more of a challenge... Probably wouldn't cum in less than five minutes either."  
"Fuck you! I'm going home..." he barked, leaving the glass, putting on his coat and attempting to storm out.  
Naturally, Bakura grabbed him and pushed him to the wall before he got the chance to get anywhere.  
"Get off me!!!"  
Bakura silenced him with a ravenous kiss. 

He let go of him and the blonde fell back against the wall; Blushing, panting and frowning.  
"Feel free to leave," Bakura sniggered.  
Marik slowly turned to leave but Bakura took hold of his wrist.  
"I'd like to know how you plan on sorting _this_ out though," he sniggered, snaking his spare hand under Marik's skirt, teasing at his reappearing arousal.  
"I'll be _fine_..." he growled, trying to turn his head and hide his blush.  
"Well... I can imagine it," he purred, "Try walking through the streets with that hardened prick in the way... That'd be hard enough on it's own, but with those gorgeous heels? Hmmmmm..."  
Marik was having trouble thinking of a response.  
"I can see it all now... After walking through the streets in absolute agony, you'd slam the door behind you, hang up your coat... Throw your keys to the floor as you bang your fist against the wall and cry... I mean, you've just been sucked off in an alleyway then fucked against a kitchen counter! Why wouldn't you feel empty enough to cry? Not to mention feeling like the filthy slut that you are..." The blonde couldn't find any words at all. He wanted to scream at him but... He couldn't. He didn't know why.  
"Kick off your shoes. Get to bed. There, all alone, you'll put your hand on your slim hard stomach and feel those butterflies of regret... Regret that you could've really felt something... A deep sensual connection rather than just the cheap whore things you've been up to this evening. But alas... you'd be touching your stomach... One hand would go up underneath your shirt... Hmmm, fingering at your nipples. That nice tingling feeling... Hmmmmmm... And the other, well... you can guess where it's going. Hitch up your pretty little skirts... Pull your panties down to your knees... Wrap that hand around your cute little dick and stroke... so softly to begin. You know... Soft and slow. But as you finger that soft skin, you'll suddenly think of me... Even for just a moment. You'll think of me and suddenly you'll feel so hot. Need to go harder... Harder... _Harder_! Until finally... you'll be screaming my name as you cum all over... your _hand_. That sounds like quite the anticlimax, if you'll pardon my pun. Such a pity... To waste that delicious thick sap... It's positively _sinful_."  
And then Marik's determined restraint dissolved. He grabbed onto Bakura's shirt.   
"Take me to your room... Take me to your room and take me again..." he growled, scrunching his eyes shut with bitterness.  
"Well, when you ask so nicely..." he sniggered, letting go of his wrist and taking hold of his top instead. He twisted the fabric, tightening around his neck. Once Marik began to gasp, Bakura let go and scooped him up, bridal style.  
"Don't dare pretend I'm a chick," he growled into his ear.  
"Why not? You do a good enough job of it!"  
The blonde bit at the top of the white-haired man's neck. Bakura couldn't help releasing an aroused moan. He practically ran up the stairs with the slightly smaller man still in his arms.

He pushed open the door to his bedroom and practically threw Marik onto the bed, who immediately tugged off his skirt.  
"Such a tasty looking treat..." Bakura smiled, licking his lips and climbing over the writhing slender body in front of then beneath him. "I'll _devour_ you..."  
"Not with butter again, I friggin' hope..."  
"Heh, no butter, pet..." he sniggered, "Got some real lube this time." He pulled a bottle from a nearby drawer.  
"You keep lube in your night stand?"  
"Well, like I may have said, I swing both ways," he shrugged. "My host, however, is quite certain of his direction."  
"That's still in it's plastic wrapping..." Marik observed out loud.  
"Yes... He's set in his direction, but I'm not about to let just any man have their way with him," he shrugged, tearing it open in preparation. "Regardless... He's not important right now."  
He placed the bottle on top of the side table and returned his focus to the willowy figure beneath him. The blonde was pulling off his shirt and bucking his hips upwards in a vain attempt to grind their groins together.  
"Calm down, you little slut..."  
"Calm down? You brought me here for a rampant fucking so give it to me!"  
"So spirited..." he purred, lowering himself. He ground their hips together then kissed him lightly... punctuating with a sharp bite to the lip. He sat up, pulling Marik with him. "Undress me."  
Marik was frantic. He almost literally tore Bakura's shirt as he pulled it off, over his head and arms. He gasped a little at the chiselled physique before leaning over to run his tongue over it. He attempted to take an erect brown nipple into his mouth, but Bakura had grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head away. He groaned a little.  
"I believe I said that I was to devour _you_ , not the other way around..." the demon growled, flipping Marik onto his back again. He unzipped his jeans and pulled them off before launching an attack on Marik's neck with his greedy tongue. The boy let out a long sumptuous moan and a little gasp when he observed that the devil over him had been going commando. His impressive length had been fully revealed.   
Bakura allowed his tongue and body to wander south, enjoying the different tastes. A fruity perfume, mixed with a candy-flavoured soap and topped with a gentle salty sweat. As he moved lower and lower, the tastes were overpowered by a delicious musky scent. As his head hovered over Marik's waist, the blonde started bucking his hips desperately again.  
"Hurry up!" he panted hastily, grabbing onto Bakura's hair, trying to force him closer.  
"Calm _down_ , you silly bitch... Try savouring the moment, won't you?" he sniggered, running his tongue over the slinky bit of material that just barely contained Marik's heated flesh. The bitch-in-heat let out a needy whine. "If it will cease your whining..." The thief growled, tugging the slinky underwear away with his teeth. He licked where he was previously mouthing over the underwear. He curled his tongue in the soft blonde hairs. The delicious scent almost drove him insane.  
Marik moaned desperately again... And that's what drove Bakura over the edge. He pulled himself back up to face the blonde, pumping a little lube from the bottle on the side into his hand then pinning him under one forearm.

"I thought you were going to..." Marik whimpered.  
"Blow you? I believe I've already done that this evening... I just want to get straight to that fucking you were begging for..."  
And Marik let out another effeminate moan. Followed by another, an even louder one, as Bakura thrust two fingers into him.   
"Oh Ra..." he growled to himself.  
"Hmmmm... Surprisingly tight, considering..." the dominant male purred, curling his fingers, eliciting a shrill cry of delight from the blonde. "Fuck... Tell me you don't need any more preparation..."  
"Don't... I don't need any... I'm fine..." he panted. "Fuck... Fucking fuck me, you fucking..."  
Bakura prevented him from saying 'fuck' again by removing his fingers, kissing him intensely and positioning his fiercely aroused cock at the needy entrance.  
"Don't worry, I will indeed fucking fuck you," he sniggered, before kissing him again. He thrust in and revelled in the sumptuous warmth. "God... Why does it feel better when we're face-to-face?" Marik tried to reply but the feeling of fullness combined with the friction of his hardened cock between their stomachs prevented him from doing any more than whimper.   
"Don't take... this as... affection... But, fuck, you're beautiful..." he growled, easing out before thrusting back in a little deeper.  
"Unghhh... Not bad yourself..." he panted, gripping at the bed sheets and spreading his legs further apart to give Bakura even better access.  
Bakura wrapped his arms around Marik's neck, hoping that the gesture wouldn't be misconstrued as affection again. Simply, the arm he was resting on the boys chest was aching and this was slightly more comfortable. Also, he wanted to bite the skin of his neck a little.  
Similarly, Marik allowed his hands to wander from the sheets to Bakura's back. A pleasurably deep thrust caused him to dig his nails into the slick-with-sweat skin... He dragged them downwards, causing Bakura to utter an approving groan.  
Their bodies clashed beautifully against each other, like twin ripples in water. 

As their movements became faster and more desperate, they came closer and closer to completion... Marik came first, covering their stomachs. Bakura came not too long after, collapsing over Marik once he'd filled him.  
Sated, Bakura pulled out after a moments calm. He rolled off of Marik and leant over to the bed side table, picking up a lighter and a pack of cigarettes.  
"You smoke?" he asked his bed partner, as he lit one up in the corner of his mouth.  
"Only after sex... so, yeah, please..." he replied, still short of breath.  
Bakura placed one in between Marik's plush lips and lit it slowly before lying back, putting the lighter back on the side and taking a deep drag.  
"What got you into that shit anyway?" he asked, after breathing out.  
"Huh, y'mean sex?"  
"No, you imbecile..." he sighed. "Your bloody _dancing_."  
"Oh, _that_. Yeah, it sounds stupid..."  
"More stupid than anything else I've heard you say?"  
"You impudent..."  
"You may as well just tell me. What is it? Are you trying to raise money to pay for your sex change?"  
"Hey!!!" he barked, "Nothing like that! I just do it because... because I get _bored_. I've served my _purpose_ of guardian to the Pharaoh... So... Yes. Not much else to do. Dancing though... it's shallow, but it makes me feel appreciated."  
Bakura simply blew some smoke in response.  
"So? Aren't you going to mock me?"  
"No," he replied bluntly, returning all attention to his cigarette.  
"What?!?!" he snapped, somewhat offended by Bakura's apparent indifference. "Why not?!?!"  
"Because I'm _trying_ to smoke my post-coital cigarette, you daft whore."  
He sniggered a little. Then a little more until finally he was cackling with laughter.  
"What?" Marik mumbled.  
"I'm so glad I went out tonight. Now, you, shut the fuck up. I'm going to sleep."


End file.
